Bull's Eye
by PyroDragon2006
Summary: Missing sceneshort story for The Return, Part 1. John reflects on what has happened after hanging up the phone from talking with Rodney. Crossover with SG1.


Disclaimer: Stargate: Atlantis and all characters therein are the property of MGM. This story is for entertainment only and the author is in no way profiting from it, nor exercising any claims to Stargate Atlantis.

Author's Note: This is a missing scene for John in the SGC in The Return, Part 1. Though the end of the story takes place back on Atlantis, it is all an assumption since the new episodes don't show in the U.S. until April, so no spoilers for anything past part 1.

Bull's Eye

John Sheppard sighed heavily, staring at the now silent phone on his desk. He'd lied, of course. He missed Rodney being on his team every single day, just as he missed having Teyla and Ronon to guard his back. These idiots he kept getting foisted off on him couldn't hold a candle to his real team, his _Atlantis_ team. Granted, having his own SG team to command was a hell of a lot better than what he'd _thought_ they would do with him now that he was no longer under Elizabeth's protection.

Because, much as his pride would like to think otherwise, it _had _been Elizabeth's doing that he stayed on Atlantis these last two years. There was no doubt in his mind General Landry would have happily sent him back to Antarctica and placed Caldwell in as military commander. Just because he chose to ignore the political aspect of military life certainly didn't mean he was unaware of it. So all in all, he really didn't have a lot to complain about.

Other than scientists who got so busy gawking at plants that they fell into rivers and lieutenants who broke their ankles trying to get said geek out. Not to mention a general who probably wasn't too pleased at John's inability to find a team chemistry that worked. A quiet knock on the door brought his head back up.

"Come in!"

"Heard you just went through number three. If you're thinking about going for the record, you're nowhere near."

A grinning Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter sauntered in, followed by her team mate, Dr. Daniel Jackson.

"Colonel Carter, Dr. Jackson, I didn't know you were back. I just got off the phone with Rodney. If you'd come a few minutes earlier, you could have said hi."

Sam shook her head, laughing.

"Tell him I said hello. Has he managed to blow anything up, yet? Or chase off all his assistants?"

John smiled back, though only half-heartedly.

"Nope, neither one. So... I gather you two heard about my latest little off-world fiasco."

Daniel plopped himself down in the visitor's chair across from John.

"Oh yeah. Heard about Jack's report from Atlantis, too. Sam and I thought maybe you could use some company."

Well, that was better than most of the people in the SGC, who would barely give him the time of day. Not that John truly expected much from the other officers who'd worked with Marshall Sumner. Even those who didn't blame him for the death avoided him as someone who'd actually killed a fellow soldier, no matter how necessary.

"I appreciate that. I'm good, though, really. Wasn't me who broke his ankle. All I do is manage to run everybody off who doesn't already avoid me."

It came out a lot bleaker and more bitter than he'd intended. John winced, mentally kicking himself for complaining about such a petty problem to two people right on the front lines of the fight against the Ori. Enemies he'd been pointedly told to avoid engaging at all costs, yet another piece of his current situation that pissed him off. Didn't Earth need all her best fighters right now? Hadn't he proved himself enough times against the Wraith, Genii, and too many others?

Sam winced in her own turn.

"I'm sorry that's still being held against you. I would have done the same thing given the circumstances. As for running off three team members, well... A team that works well together takes time. You got lucky with some pretty incredible people on Atlantis. Even- don't you dare tell him I ever even _thought _this- Rodney McKay."

"Sam's right. You should hear the tales of what Jack went through trying to replace me. One guy only lasted... What did you tell me, Sam? Four hours?"

"Three."

The blond astrophysicist smirked wickedly, a gleam in her eye at the memory. John couldn't help smiling in response, even if he didn't know the whole story. He'd liked the general from the moment they'd first met and the officer actually talked to him instead of treating him like a glorified taxi driver.

"Is that who holds the record? How many personnel did General O'Neill go through?"

Sam's smile widened as she exchanged a glance with her team mate.

"Nine. He actually got threatened with having a Russian officer placed on the team before he settled on Jonas Quinn. You'll find the right mix, and if you're worried about General Landry, don't be, he won't hold this against you."

John winced, throwing another dart over his visitors' heads with a bit more force then necessary. It hit the dead center of the dart board head on, but broke, leaving the tip stuck in the hole. Crap. Now he couldn't throw a perfect bull's eye again. Just like he could never return to his perfect place again. One where he had friends, _family_, a purpose that truly mattered, a place where he could simply be John Sheppard, pilot, leader, military officer, friend, math genius, comic, and every other separate part he'd played over the years. Only on Atlantis was he truly accepted as all of that, as _John_. It really wasn't fair- Save the Ancients and get booted out of the city, don't save them and lose the city to the Asurans. Lose-lose, the story of his life.

"The general needs a functioning team, not me being picky."

The problems with team dynamics was at least a safe topic, not one filled with emotional holes he could fall into. He didn't do emotional well.

"Nope. The general needs a team that can trust each other and work together when the shit starts to fly. Why do you think he'd have a seasoned off-world combat veteran sidelined otherwise? Too much risk of losing you." The man who just spoken while casually leaning against the doorway straightened and sauntered slowly into the room, pausing to eye the dart board. "Not a good game for when you're pissed, things break too easy. Next time, come find us and we'll play some basketball. Jackson's got a killer jump shot." Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell grinned at his team mate, then brought suddenly serious blue eyes back to meet John's hazel ones. "Keep honestly working on finding the right fit and Landry will be happy."

John sighed, noting the other man's careless optimism sourly. Now he understood why Elizabeth and Rodney both got so annoyed with him when he blithely barreled in with similar statements, but no real answers. That, right there, was part of the problem, of course. John Sheppard was failing utterly at finding the bright side of this whole thing, a position he normally staked out without conscious thought. Sure, he was faking it just fine around these strangers, but his friends would see through it in an instant. Fortunately, Elizabeth had provided an unintended escape for him with Carson and Rodney when they _had _picked up on some of it the other day. He might even feel bad about sicking the two on her if he weren't so worried about her himself. Thank goodness Carson went to talk to her and wasn't about to take no for an answer.

"Look, I appreciate the pep talk, all of you, but I'm good, really. I'll keep looking for the right fit on my team, and there's nothing I can do about Atlantis. Actually, its just as well we aren't there from what the general said, so life goes on."

Mitchell pinned him with a knowing gaze.

"Yeah, but it isn't quite the same, is it? Can't go to the B team when you've been the A team for so long. Who knows, maybe with your gene the Ancients will let you visit or something. As for the Ori, don't worry, I get the feeling there'll be plenty to go around before its all done. Later, Sheppard."

Flipping his hand in a casual salute, the man tossed something at him, John instinctively grabbing it from the air. The broken dart. Dr. Jackson reached over and gently took it from his loose grip.

"I think it can be fixed, just might take a little time."

His tone said he didn't mean just the dart. Sam nodded slowly, then both of them walked out the door, leaving John alone with his thoughts.

Later, on Atlantis...

Somehow, they had pulled it off. A handful of people against the Replicators who had killed all the Ancients and they won, they saved the city. _His _city. Now, John stood on the balcony watching the ocean waves wash up against the pier where the _Daedalus_ sat, off loading supplies and returning personnel.

"Happy?"

Elizabeth's soft question made him turn with a smile, accepting the steaming cup of coffee she held out to him.

"Definitely. Its good to be home."

"It certainly is. Your team asked me to tell you they're waiting in your office with something to show you." She immediately held up a hand. "Don't ask, they wouldn't tell me, just said both of us should meet them there."

John narrowed his eyes, assessing the chances of her bluffing him into some embarrassing emotional welcome home party. Finally, he nodded, and they set off through the familiar corridors, both savoring the simple feeling of being back where they belonged. Inside his office waited an impatiently finger-tapping Rodney, a serenely smiling Teyla, and a wickedly grinning Ronon.

"Okay, I'm here. What?"

Hands on his hips, John arched an eyebrow at them, certain now that something didn't smell right about all this. Teyla took the lead.

"We received a package and a request from Dr. Jackson and SG-1. Turn around, John."

She gestured behind him toward the far wall of his office. Turning, he saw his old dart board from the office he'd used in the SGC, except now it had a picture of Atlantis in the very center. Walking slowly toward it, he noted that the plastic dart tip had been carefully cleaned from the hole in the very center, ready for a new game.

"They fixed it for me?"

With a grin, he moved to his desk, looking for some darts to try it out, but there weren't any in the still empty piece of furniture. A hand appeared in his line of sight with a dart, complete with a silvery shining, unbreakable metal tip.

"Sam said to tell you to hit the center again." Rodney grinned at his friend and team leader. "No breaking again. Not this time."

John grabbed the dart and flung it without even looking to his target. With a satisfying _thwack_, it hit dead center and stuck there, quivering.

Bull's eye.

The end.


End file.
